


Domestic

by DilynAliceBlake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:38:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone prompted--Yes I know!  Shush, prompts are my weakness, okay?  Someone prompted a mormor domestic scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic

"Oh god Sebby, there's gunpowder on the dishes again," Jim's voice came from the kitchen, irritated if not exactly surprised.

"So we'll just order in," replied the man lounging on the couch, settling into the cushions and toeing off his shoes.

"Be realistic Sebastian!" the mastermind shouted, likely more for affect than to actually chastise his partner.  One learned to live with the slow rate at which normal people thought.  Jim actually found it a bit adorable, like a cat trying to get something inside a computer screen.  Obviously, the full understanding was lacking, and the efforts were futile, but sometimes it made Jim smile to see Sebastian try. He went ahead and explained, not trusting the sniper to catch up. "There are only so many delivery boys who can go missing before they start tracking them, or look at the delivery adress and putting two and two together."

"Then just _don't_ kill the next one," Sebastian replied, as if it were simple.  

Well, maybe it was, but it didn't fit Jim's style.  

"Did you delete Idol off the recordings?" Moran hadn't sounded that concerned since the time he thought Jim had sent him in without bullets.  Okay, Jim had, for laughs, but Seb had still gotten the job done, so all's well that ends well and all that. 

"They're still auditioning," Jim's voice carried easily from one room of their flat to another, "I don't want to have to track down every single fail auditioner to cut out their vocal chords and save the world from future headaches. It's time consuming, and discourages the good ones from auditioning.  
...What are you doing? I heard the tone for the DVR passcode. You aren't deleting my Doctor Who are you? Sebby? SEB? MORAN! I will deduce your childhood heroes and FUCKING KILL THEM ALL!!!"  Jim felt justified in his threat.  It wasn't at all disproportionately extreme.

"Aw, luv, I didn't know you looked up to the Timelord that much."  It was probably a good thing that working under Jim had taught the man how to coo without sounding condescending, otherwise he likely wouldn't be in possession of a tongue.  "You're such a cute little geek!"

"I am not little," Jim pouted.  Sebastian took a swig of his beer and wondered what it was Jim was still doing in the kitchen.  Since the sniper couldn't hear anything that sounded particularly dangerous, he decided he was better off not asking.  "It is not my fault you're a fucking behemoth!"

Sebastian smirked before responding.  "Say what you want, Jim, you like having me towering over everyone intimidatingly before beginning your ranting and making them go bellyup begging for mercy."

Jim considered.  "Well, I suppose that's true," he conceded.  "So, Chinese or Pizza? Maybe Indian Fusion?"  Not that Jim would actually pay Sebastian's opinion any mind when choosing.  Mostly the lug was just there as security and a sounding board.

"Whatever you want luv," Seb said.  Well, Jim supposed there might be one or two more reasons.  Which he wouldn't admit to anyone, ever.

"Kay," Jim's voice came, strangely echoing as if from inside a cabinet, or perhaps one of the appliances.  "Don't start it without me."

Sebastian wouldn't.

 


End file.
